


cold as frozen iron

by parkerxheart



Series: cuddles & hugs [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: And Gets One, Angst, Crying, Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hair Playing, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Iron Dad, Iron dad and Spider son, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Cuddling, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, spider son, the whole spiders can thermoregulate stuff, then it goes to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 19:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20031445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkerxheart/pseuds/parkerxheart
Summary: And the instant Tony laid eyes on him, he scrambled to stand up and grab a blanket from the couch.“Jesus Christ, kid,” Tony said, draping the blanket around Peter shoulders and rubbing his arms. “You okay?”“F-fuck the snow,” Peter muttered.Tony cupped Peter’s cheeks in both hands. “Lordy, you’re an icicle.”ORPeter never would have thought that being cold would turn into such a paternal moment.





	cold as frozen iron

Since the bite, cold weather had never been Peter’s thing.

He had always gotten cold easily, but it became excruciatingly difficult to deal with in winter, especially on the coldest day of the year that usually occurred in the freezing times of January.

And since May had to get to work early, that meant walking to the Subway while it was snowing.

_ Great. _

Peter layered up with a hoodie, a puffy jacket, and a long sleeved shirt underneath it all, along with his thickest sweatpants and hoped it would be enough.

Turns out it wasn’t, because it was utterly frigid. But he was already running a bit late and wouldn’t be able to go back and get more things, so he just sucked in his breath and trudged to the subway station.

He never liked snow. Sure, it was fun when he was a kid within the first hour or two, but then you just get sick of it and wish it to go away. It had been snowing a lot and Peter was salty all the way up to the station, stuffing his ice-cold hands deep in his pockets. 

School was fine. The jacket was enough in the warm school and PE warmed him up nicely.

But what  _ wasn’t  _ fine was that he forgot his jacket in the change room and by the time he got there, it was gone.  _ Stolen. _

“Wow, just fantastic,” Peter muttered. “Now I freeze to death.”

He was supposed to take the subway to the tower and really didn’t want to call Tony and ask for a ride. But he also really didn’t want to freeze to death. The only thing he could wear was his hoodie and that would certainly not be enough for even a regular person who thermoregulated properly. 

But Peter pulled his hood over his head, tightened the strings so he looked like an egg, and marched on to the station, the chilly breeze immediately stinging his bare face. And that combined with his feet trampling through the snow was not fun. 

By the time he was on the walk to the tower after the subway ride, Peter was pretty sure he was going to get hypothermia. 

He walked into the tower and the heat almost made him sob in relief. 

“Fuck the s-s-snow,” Peter stuttered through chattering teeth, tapping off his shoes. He held out his right hand and blinked twice at how hard it was trembling. His teeth were still chattering and his hoodie was wet from all the snow and he was just completely uncomfortable. 

_ Great. Looking awesome, Parker,  _ he thought bitterly, walking to the elevator and breathing on his hands to try to warm them up. 

And the instant Tony laid eyes on him, he scrambled to stand up and grab a blanket from the couch.

“Jesus Christ, kid,” Tony said, draping the blanket around Peter shoulders and rubbing his arms. “You okay?”

“F-fuck the snow,” Peter muttered.

Tony cupped Peter’s cheeks in both hands. “Lordy, you’re an icicle.”

Peter leaned into the warmth. “I’m cold.”

Tony slowly encircled his arms around Peter’s body in a tight hug. Peter couldn’t help but melt and wrap his arms around Tony in return. The man rubbed Peter’s back up and down to provide as much warmth as possible whilst giving comfort. Peter shuddered violently.

“Okay, come on, I’m grabbing you something dry to wear,” Tony said, keeping one arm around Peter’s shoulders and guiding him to his room where he poked around for a hoodie and sweatpants.

“You don’t have to,” Peter said softly, tightening the blanket around him. “I’ll be fine.”

“I am not letting you sit around in soaked and freezing clothes while you feel like a popsicle,” Tony said, tossing the clothes at him. “Put these on.”

Peter shivered and slid the blanket off his shoulders. “Th-thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“No problem. Come find me in the lab when you’re changed.”

Peter’s fingers still felt like ice as he quickly changed and met Tony back in the lab. 

Tony regarded his still shivering form. “Anything I can do to help?” 

Peter knew one thing that always did help. He had always been clingy and when he was younger and was cold, May and Ben would always cuddle him, and May still would from time to time. He’d cuddled with Tony before but he for some reason felt really stupid about asking this one time. 

“I, uh . . . can- can I- can . . . can I maybe, um, maybe have . . . uh . . .”

A smile broke out on Tony’s face. “Oh, you want to be cuddled.”

Peter felt himself blushing all the way up to his hairline. “Yeah.”

“It’s fine, kid. I think it’s adorable. Come here.” He opened his arms and Peter shuffled over and his face splatted into Tony’s chest. 

Tony smiled wider and hugged Peter tight to his chest, ducking his head into Peter’s hair, who stood still and drew all the warmth and comfort out of the embrace possible. 

“I like your hugs, Pete, it’s all good.”

Peter blushed harder. “Thanks. I, um . . . I like yours too.”

Tony snorted. “Let’s go to the couch then.”

The couch was just big enough for the both of them to lay down, Peter obviously wanting to be the little spoon, because as very accurately stated in Brooklyn 99, everyone likes to be little spoon because it makes you feel safe. Tony seemed more than happy about that and affectionately cuddled Peter to him, wrapping both arms securely around Peter’s body.

“You’re still cold,” Tony remarked, tugging a blanket over the two of them.

“Yeah, it sucks,” Peter mumbled, his voice muted by Tony’s shirt. “I like your hoodie. It’s really soft.”

“You can have it,” Tony said with a shrug, moving one hand up to play with Peter’s hair, untangling each knot gently. “I don’t really wear it anymore.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine, I don’t wanna steal it--”

“I just gave you permission, kid. Take it.”

Peter smiled shyly. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

He sighed contently as Tony messed around with his hair, carefully tugging. 

He ended up passing out before he even knew it.

-

Peter’s eyes blinked open sleepily and the first thing he registered was that he was not in the lab anymore. The mattress was ungodly comfortable and the covers he was under were heaven. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and then found out he was in Tony’s room. 

The mirror on the wall let him know that his hair was a mess, the curls completely untamed and abundant. The clock said it was 9 am. Thank god it was Saturday or Peter might have had a heart attack.

He pulled himself out of the amazing bed and walked around to find Tony, eventually finding him in the kitchen making pancakes.

“Well good morning, kid,” Tony said. “How did you sleep?”

“So good,” Peter said, hopping onto one of the barstools. “That was the best sleep I’ve ever had. More than twelve hours!”

“You were out cold when I brought you there, that’s for sure.”

Blushing again, Peter whispered, “Oh yeah, you carried me.”

Tony laughed at Peter’s red face. “Calm down, Bashful, I’m cool with it. Anyways, pancakes are ready.” He slid a plate and a fork and knife Peter’s way.

They were pretty good.

“Okay, so, I should have this conversation with you,” Tony said, sitting next to Peter, who looked up from shoving the pancakes into his mouth.

“Mm?” Peter said through the mouthful.

“I’m not very good at this whole feelings thing. But I told you once that my dad never really gave me a lot of support and I was trying to break the cycle.” Tony drummed his fingers on the counter. “And I’ve kind of felt like your . . . your dad recently.”

Thank god Peter had finished the pancake or else he would have choked. He swallowed hard, trying not to do anything stupid, like cry. 

“Really?” was all he managed to squeak.

“If you don’t want that, it’s fine,” Tony said quickly. “But it’s been on my mind.”

“No, no,” Peter said. “I’ve . . . kind of felt like you’re like my dad too. A lot, actually. And- and I mean we hug a lot and- and I cuddle you sometimes, and you know you’ve seen me cry and I’ve seen you cry and stuff. Which is fine! I don’t mind. At all. And May’s made some comments about us getting close, so has Ned, and I like, kinda love you like you’re my dad, and it’s totally cool if you don’t love me like a son and this is getting too long and I’m gonna go--” He made a move to leap off the stool and sprint off out of embarrassment when Tony grabbed his arm.

“Kid.”

Peter stopped breathing and looked at Tony’s eyes. 

Tony reached out and gingerly pressed his hand against Peter’s cheek. “I love you too.”

Peter smothered tears, trying insanely hard not to cry.

“Me and Pepper have talked a few times about having kids,” Tony said softly. “And I’m just realizing these parental urges are coming from me thinking of you as my kid.”

Peter had to try even harder not to cry, biting his cheek so hard it could bleed. 

Swiping a thumb across Peter’s cheekbone, Tony whispered, “I’m sorry I haven’t been as good to you as I’ve wanted to.”

Peter managed to choke out “you have been” before the weight was too much and he broke down in tears, it all getting too overwhelming.

“Christ, c’mere,” Tony whispered and wrapped Peter in the tightest hug he’d ever experienced. Peter pressed his face into Tony’s shoulder and sobbed. “Please tell me these are tears of joy?”

“Yes, of course,” Peter sobbed. 

“Oh god, don’t make me cry. I’m trying to be strong here.”

Peter managed to laugh through the onslaught of tears that wouldn’t stop. 

Tony held Peter for a while as he tried to calm his tears, eventually pulling away and wiping his face. “Thank you,” he sniveled. “For what you said.”

Tony patted Peter’s shoulder. “I meant everything I said, you know.”

Trying hard not to cry  _ again,  _ Peter squeaked, “I love you.”

Tony grabbed him for another hug. “I love you 3000.”

**Author's Note:**

> yeet


End file.
